I had an experience yesterday that solidified a decision I made a while ago. I will not take pictures of people without their permission. Now, if I'm taking a picture of an entire scene, I'm not going to walk around to everyone in it and ask, but if it's a picture with a person or small group of people as the subject, I'll always ask first. And if they say no, I'll walk away. Here's why:
Yesterday I went with the three kids to play with some local kids near our house. They had a great time together, but it was time to leave. There were two watchdogs that we had chained up while the kids were playing -- very friendly, but local kids are very afraid of dogs. As we were leaving, I unchained the dogs and started walking up the hill to the gate. On this property, there is a long lane that leads straight up the mountain. Not such a bad hike, but with a 1 1/2-year-old strapped to my hip and holding the hands of my 3-and 5-year-olds, it's a bit taxing. Especially when they're whining because they're hungry and tired from playing hard all morning. So, I finally got to the gate, grabbed the boys' hands and was about to walk through when both dogs pushed past me and out into the street. I had been so focused on getting the kids home, I didn't check for the dogs. Aaaarrrggghhhh!
My heart sank. Here I was with 3 little kids -- one in the sling -- and I was supposed to catch these two dogs and get them back home before walking to my own house. I couldn't leave the boys anywhere, so I had to bring my complaining boys along. I was tired and just wanting to get back home so I could make the kids some food and then take a break. Off after the dogs I went, trying to call them cheerfully like it was a game. Really, I wanted to scream at them, but I figured that wouldn't really help my cause. So, I followed them to our friends' house -- who have a guard dog that they like to play with. As we reached the gate, I pretended like we were going in for a visit and thankfully, the dogs followed. I grabbed their collars and told Jed to go ask Auntie for some rope. I remembered that they were babysitting another dog that didn't get along with one of these dogs. Doggie Drama. I didn't want them getting inside and then having to find a stick to break up a dog fight. Well, Jed came back out with the rope and I tied one end to one collar and the other end to the other collar and held the middle like they were a sled dog team.
They might as well have been. As we headed back down the road, they were pulling so hard, I had to use both hands to hold them in -- which meant Lucy was swinging around at my hip a bit. Jed and Abe were lollygagging behind now that the excitement of the dog hunt was over. We came around the corner and my heart sank again. There was a family of shepherds moving their flock of about 100 goats up the mountain. They had two sheep dogs with them and my two dogs went berserk! How was I going to protect my two small boys and little girl in the sling if these dogs took off into this flock? I really couldn't hold them if they decided to bolt. How was I going to protect these dogs from getting hurt if the sheepdogs came at them. They weren't my dogs. How in the world was I going to get us all home safe? God was looking out for us. We had stopped by a big telephone pole. I looped the dogs around the pole so they were pulling against it and not my hand. The shepherds saw my dogs and quickly put their dogs on a leash. The oldest of the shepherds kept telling me to go ahead and walk past them. I wished I had the words for, "Are you kidding? Do you want me to be dragged with my daughter into the middle of your goats?"
I just held on tight to the rope, told Jed and Abe to get behind me, and prayed. The group was almost past us when I realized that a young guy at the back of the group (holding a baby goat, mind you) had his phone out. He was pointing the camera at me and Lucy and trying to snap our picture. SERIOUSLY????? I wanted to yell. Well, I did yell. I yelled what I knew to say in Urdu, "Stop it! Can't you see I'm worried and having trouble and you're trying to take my picture? That's bad. Stop it!" So, that guy has a picture on his phone of an angry blue-eyed lady with a blonde baby on her hip. Good for him. I can imagine him taking out his phone around the campfire. "Look what we saw on the way up the mountain yesterday. Isn't that remarkable?" "What a good picture. Boy, they sure look different than us. You really captured her personality."
Does this make any of you stop and think? Well, it does me. When we arrived here I was blown away by the number of people who want our photo -- especially the kids. Sometimes I don't mind. When we've just met someone and they want to take a picture. Or even if we're in a restaurant and our kids have been making funny faces at them and they ask our permission and the kids' permission. Then, I'm okay with it. I realize we're an oddity here. I realize I have cute kids with a complexion that most people here haven't seen except in movies. So, if I'm having a good day it doesn't bother me. Others, however, try to snap our picture by pretending they're playing with our phone -- even after I confront them about it. These people have not intention of meeting us or asking our kids if they mind being 'captured' in digital. In these cases, we might as well be in a zoo. In one particular case, it was a newspaper man who parked himself right next to our family while we were playing in the park and tried to snap our picture for the paper. After I politely told him that my husband wasn't there to ask permission, he moved about 50 meters away, took out a huge lens, and commenced snapping. At that point I went after him like a Mama Bear, yelling, "I said no! Get out of here!" Then there's the times that we're in tourist areas. These are the worst. People are already in photo-taking mode, so when they see our kids, they just switch their camera position from the mountains, or lake, or building, or Taj Mahal (it's one of the seven wonders of the world, for heaven's sake!) and take pics of our kids. I really hate visiting these places right now because I feel that I'm constantly on guard so my kids don't feel uncomfortable with the holiday families. One time I had to chase a Dad away who was determined to get my little boy and his little boy (who were both crying and not wanting to stand there) to hold hands for a picture. Good grief, people!
So, with all these instances of unwanted attention, it's given me a new lens (lens, get it?) to see how my picture-taking might affect someone else. If I wouldn't like someone walking up and snapping my picture right now, or my kids' picture, maybe that person wouldn't either. That's why I've instituted the ask-first policy. Here, I feel I'm always walking into a photo opportunity. I would have loved a picture of that shepherd family herding their sheep up the mountain. I would love a picture of the guy who sits at the corner on the bazaar, shining shoes. I would love a picture of the little kids who wait at our back gate for my kids to come out and chat or hand snacks back and forth. But, now I won't take it without asking. And, I'm learning, I'm not inclined to ask most of the time. It's awkward to admit, "Hey, I saw you and you look so new and different to me that I want your picture." Maybe that guy would just like to quietly go about shining shoes without being reminded that I'm watching him. Maybe those kids' Mama would be frustrated if she walked out of her tent and saw a strange lady taking photos of her kids.
One more thing is that I am not a tourist here. I can understand there are some who come here to see a new and different place and then go home and tell their friends and family about it. That's fine. Our new home city would be in a lot of trouble if it weren't for those people. Still, that's not me. If I walk around with my SLR camera, zoom lens and big carry-case, I shout outsider. I live here. This is my home. Even if I'm different, I'm wanting to be a part of things, not just observe them from the outside. So, sorry if you would like to see a lot more pictures of this new home of mine. There will be some. But if you want lots of those, you'll have to find a travel blog. I want to walk with people here. Not just chronicle them in my photo folder.
A pic of our backyard view. Come visit!!!
Yesterday I went with the three kids to play with some local kids near our house. They had a great time together, but it was time to leave. There were two watchdogs that we had chained up while the kids were playing -- very friendly, but local kids are very afraid of dogs. As we were leaving, I unchained the dogs and started walking up the hill to the gate. On this property, there is a long lane that leads straight up the mountain. Not such a bad hike, but with a 1 1/2-year-old strapped to my hip and holding the hands of my 3-and 5-year-olds, it's a bit taxing. Especially when they're whining because they're hungry and tired from playing hard all morning. So, I finally got to the gate, grabbed the boys' hands and was about to walk through when both dogs pushed past me and out into the street. I had been so focused on getting the kids home, I didn't check for the dogs. Aaaarrrggghhhh!
My heart sank. Here I was with 3 little kids -- one in the sling -- and I was supposed to catch these two dogs and get them back home before walking to my own house. I couldn't leave the boys anywhere, so I had to bring my complaining boys along. I was tired and just wanting to get back home so I could make the kids some food and then take a break. Off after the dogs I went, trying to call them cheerfully like it was a game. Really, I wanted to scream at them, but I figured that wouldn't really help my cause. So, I followed them to our friends' house -- who have a guard dog that they like to play with. As we reached the gate, I pretended like we were going in for a visit and thankfully, the dogs followed. I grabbed their collars and told Jed to go ask Auntie for some rope. I remembered that they were babysitting another dog that didn't get along with one of these dogs. Doggie Drama. I didn't want them getting inside and then having to find a stick to break up a dog fight. Well, Jed came back out with the rope and I tied one end to one collar and the other end to the other collar and held the middle like they were a sled dog team.
They might as well have been. As we headed back down the road, they were pulling so hard, I had to use both hands to hold them in -- which meant Lucy was swinging around at my hip a bit. Jed and Abe were lollygagging behind now that the excitement of the dog hunt was over. We came around the corner and my heart sank again. There was a family of shepherds moving their flock of about 100 goats up the mountain. They had two sheep dogs with them and my two dogs went berserk! How was I going to protect my two small boys and little girl in the sling if these dogs took off into this flock? I really couldn't hold them if they decided to bolt. How was I going to protect these dogs from getting hurt if the sheepdogs came at them. They weren't my dogs. How in the world was I going to get us all home safe? God was looking out for us. We had stopped by a big telephone pole. I looped the dogs around the pole so they were pulling against it and not my hand. The shepherds saw my dogs and quickly put their dogs on a leash. The oldest of the shepherds kept telling me to go ahead and walk past them. I wished I had the words for, "Are you kidding? Do you want me to be dragged with my daughter into the middle of your goats?"
I just held on tight to the rope, told Jed and Abe to get behind me, and prayed. The group was almost past us when I realized that a young guy at the back of the group (holding a baby goat, mind you) had his phone out. He was pointing the camera at me and Lucy and trying to snap our picture. SERIOUSLY????? I wanted to yell. Well, I did yell. I yelled what I knew to say in Urdu, "Stop it! Can't you see I'm worried and having trouble and you're trying to take my picture? That's bad. Stop it!" So, that guy has a picture on his phone of an angry blue-eyed lady with a blonde baby on her hip. Good for him. I can imagine him taking out his phone around the campfire. "Look what we saw on the way up the mountain yesterday. Isn't that remarkable?" "What a good picture. Boy, they sure look different than us. You really captured her personality."
Does this make any of you stop and think? Well, it does me. When we arrived here I was blown away by the number of people who want our photo -- especially the kids. Sometimes I don't mind. When we've just met someone and they want to take a picture. Or even if we're in a restaurant and our kids have been making funny faces at them and they ask our permission and the kids' permission. Then, I'm okay with it. I realize we're an oddity here. I realize I have cute kids with a complexion that most people here haven't seen except in movies. So, if I'm having a good day it doesn't bother me. Others, however, try to snap our picture by pretending they're playing with our phone -- even after I confront them about it. These people have not intention of meeting us or asking our kids if they mind being 'captured' in digital. In these cases, we might as well be in a zoo. In one particular case, it was a newspaper man who parked himself right next to our family while we were playing in the park and tried to snap our picture for the paper. After I politely told him that my husband wasn't there to ask permission, he moved about 50 meters away, took out a huge lens, and commenced snapping. At that point I went after him like a Mama Bear, yelling, "I said no! Get out of here!" Then there's the times that we're in tourist areas. These are the worst. People are already in photo-taking mode, so when they see our kids, they just switch their camera position from the mountains, or lake, or building, or Taj Mahal (it's one of the seven wonders of the world, for heaven's sake!) and take pics of our kids. I really hate visiting these places right now because I feel that I'm constantly on guard so my kids don't feel uncomfortable with the holiday families. One time I had to chase a Dad away who was determined to get my little boy and his little boy (who were both crying and not wanting to stand there) to hold hands for a picture. Good grief, people!
So, with all these instances of unwanted attention, it's given me a new lens (lens, get it?) to see how my picture-taking might affect someone else. If I wouldn't like someone walking up and snapping my picture right now, or my kids' picture, maybe that person wouldn't either. That's why I've instituted the ask-first policy. Here, I feel I'm always walking into a photo opportunity. I would have loved a picture of that shepherd family herding their sheep up the mountain. I would love a picture of the guy who sits at the corner on the bazaar, shining shoes. I would love a picture of the little kids who wait at our back gate for my kids to come out and chat or hand snacks back and forth. But, now I won't take it without asking. And, I'm learning, I'm not inclined to ask most of the time. It's awkward to admit, "Hey, I saw you and you look so new and different to me that I want your picture." Maybe that guy would just like to quietly go about shining shoes without being reminded that I'm watching him. Maybe those kids' Mama would be frustrated if she walked out of her tent and saw a strange lady taking photos of her kids.
One more thing is that I am not a tourist here. I can understand there are some who come here to see a new and different place and then go home and tell their friends and family about it. That's fine. Our new home city would be in a lot of trouble if it weren't for those people. Still, that's not me. If I walk around with my SLR camera, zoom lens and big carry-case, I shout outsider. I live here. This is my home. Even if I'm different, I'm wanting to be a part of things, not just observe them from the outside. So, sorry if you would like to see a lot more pictures of this new home of mine. There will be some. But if you want lots of those, you'll have to find a travel blog. I want to walk with people here. Not just chronicle them in my photo folder.
A pic of our backyard view. Come visit!!!
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